the strength of a woman

I have always hated work parties. When I worked in residential treatment, I never went to them. I am sure it came off as snooty and pompous. However, inevitably, the next day all of my feelings of hesitation and distain would be confirmed. There would be stories of co-workers showing up high, a boss that would get so drunk he would be puking, or married people making out with other married people. Have I mentioned how much I really don’t like alcohol? There is something about seeing people who work with kids lose their morality and common sense that is beyond off-putting. To see someone stoned off their ass one night and then have to rely on them to help you keep a restraint safe the next day is nauseating. To hear them preach to kids about making good and healthy decisions and give them consequences for their negative choices when I knew who they were cheating on was simply more than I could take. Therefore, no work parties.
Last night, I broke my vow. I went to a work Christmas party. Chad went with me. It was at a bar—I was worried. Most of my co-workers are white, middle (to upper) aged women, and they were bringing their white, middle (to upper) aged husband, and some of their kids. (My school is in the suburbs, btw.) I knew they were all very sweet women, but was not really sure about they type of reception that Chad and I would receive and how overtly uncomfortable the other people would be. I was not sure how this might effect my work environment for the rest of the year and how I might be received by the kids, if they hear gossip through the grapevine.
I was shocked by the amazing group of women that were at the party. They had their wine, beer, margaritas, etc, but never were the slightest different than what they normally are. Due to their ages, there are many of them that have lost their husbands to cancer, some of them have husbands that are going through cancer currently, there are women who have had mastectomies, and are going through health problems of their own. Not only did they show their strength last night, but also their intrinsic love of life. They all got up and danced with pure abandon. At one point, Chad looked over at me and said, “If we were here with our friends or other people our age, none of them would be having as much fun as these women are.” He was right. They have learned to dance despite the past and current pain and fear. They have learned to love and live in the moment and take life for all it has to offer. I watched the husband of the woman who has had the mastectomy as he sat back and watched his wife dance. The quiet love he has for his wife was clearly obvious radiating from his eyes. I will return to work on Monday with a new-found respect and admiration for these amazing women.
In addition, and it was only icing on the cake, everyone was so welcoming to Chad, and only a couple of their husbands even looked remotely uncomfortable. However, even they shook our hands. The highlight of the evening was when another of the special education ladies (a stunningly beautiful and vivacious woman) came up to me and said, “I knew it, I knew you were gay.” I laughed and said I figured it was obvious to everyone. She said, “No, not at all. In fact, the only reason I knew was because of how you came in and redecorated your classroom and how beautiful it looks.” Ah, tell-tell signs. . . The interior decorator gene strikes again.
It was a gift I was not expecting to receive. While I still don’t really like work parties (after all, work is in the title), it was such a beautiful experience to partake of the joy and love that exists in the midst of all the trials our lives have to offer.